Misery
by Atreyl
Summary: Because when you're forced to marry a certain blond who might be a homophobe, things are bound to get hectic. Matt just didn't expect things to turn out this bad. AU
1. this world will never be what i expected

**this world will never be what i expected**

Sweat ran down David Jeevas' brow as he waited outside the mansion, having just rung the doorbell. He toyed with the edge of his suit, trying to ease himself without much success; his plan, what he was about to do, weighed heavily in his mind.

A butler opened the door after a minute more of waiting. The old man's expression showed weariness, but with also a polite air. "Mr. Jeevas?" he queried.

The auburn-haired man nodded.

"Mrs. Keehl has been expecting you." The butler stepped back and opened the door wider, letting the other come in.

David stared in awe at his surroundings as the butler led him to the waiting room. Then again, what had he been expecting? The Keehls were currently the owners of one of the biggest companies in the world, it was only natural that the furniture seemed so classy. Two big vases of cattails sat on either side of the doorway; once inside, there was a stairway on the right, and two archways leading to other rooms on the left.

David ducked through a vestibule after the butler, who'd finally stopped halfway through one of the archways. "I'll be off to fetch Mrs. Keehl," he said, and bowed slightly. Then he was gone, heading up the stairs.

Taking a seat in one of the beige couches, David allowed himself a breath. _Am I really doing this? _he asked himself silently. He bit his lip, seriously contemplating on high-tailing it right then. But he thought of his family, of the oncoming baby, and shook his head. He had to. With his company ailing and not earning nearly enough money as it used to, it wouldn't support his family.

_And if I make this deal, _he reminded himself, _it will be like killing two birds with one stone. My family needs the support, and the Keehls need someone to marry their son before Mr. Keehl passes away. It's a win-win situation, and Matt shouldn't entirely mind being-_

"It's a pleasure to see you again, David," someone spoke, and David had to pause for a moment to realize that it was him who was being addressed.

"Laura," he acknowledged the woman, standing to give her a smile.

Laura Keehl looked thoroughly delighted. "How long has it been?" she gushed. "Eight years? I bet little Matt has grown up!"

"Much so," David agreed. "He's nineteen now." Feeling that he shouldn't try to stall any longer, he blurted out, "And speaking of my son, I've a little proposition."

"A proposition?" Laura raised an elegant eyebrow. "Well, all right, but let's go to the kitchen. The cooks have just finished making dinner. We'll talk about it then."

David nodded, finding that it couldn't hurt. "And how is your husband?" he asked as they walked.

"Evan is doing very well," Laura said with a sniff.

David sensed a change in the atmosphere and decided not to press the topic about her wife, who'd been diagnosed with lung cancer a little over a year ago.

"I keep telling him not to smoke," Laura said. "But he doesn't listen. He says that some sickness isn't going to change who he is. Stubborn man." She shook her head, chuckling somewhat ruefully.

David didn't know what to say once they'd reached the dining room. Taking a seat next to the woman, he scrambled for something to say to change the subject. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when a figure appeared in the doorway and spoke.

"Mom," the blond said. He paused when he saw David, eyeing him warily.

"Mello!" Laura clapped her hands once. "You're in time for dinner. Come on, don't you remember Mr. Jeevas?"

Again, Mello eyed David scrutinizingly. "No," he responded shortly.

"Don't you remember Matt?" Laura said with a frown. "You two were the best of friends!"

"No," was the repeated answer. Before his mother could go on, he said, "I already ate. I came down because Dad wanted a glass of water." With that, he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two adults once more.

"Boys," Laura said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, what was that proposition you were talking about, David?"

David gulped, and suddenly he felt nauseous. "Well," he began. _I shouldn't be doing this. Oh god, this is wrong, I shouldn't be, I shouldn't be. But I have to, because my family can fail. But what about- _"I heard that you were still looking for a bride for your son."

"Mello?" Laura said. "Oh, him. Yes, we are, and have been for the last four years! He's always far too busy with his studies to court anyone and he scares away almost every girl that we try to set him up with! Stubborn, like his dad." She shook her head disdainfully.

"Coincidentally, my offer pertains to that," David said, gaining a minuscule amount of confidence. "My company's failing," he admitted. "With Rebecca having a baby on the way, there's no way that I'll be able to provide for them if my company is completely destroyed."

Laura looked sincerely troubled. "That's not good," she said. "Is there anything that we might be able to do?"

"You're already dealing enough with your husband," David told her. "And if you accept my proposal, both of our families will benefit."

"What is it?"

David took a deep breath. "You see..."

**. . .**

**The following morning:**

His name was Matt, Matt Jeevas, and, as he sat on the lavish breakfast table with a plate of cinnamon rolls in front of him, the redhead found himself facing possibly the most awkward moment of his life. "What do you mean, _I'm getting married?_"

* * *

**I personally had a good laugh while writing that last part. XD Anyways, this is the story that I've hinted at once(or twice). It's only the prologue, so, as you might have noticed, it's a little boring. The first real chapter will hopefully be uploaded tonight(if I finish my project early) and it'll explain some things that are a little unclear. Then, the story will have officially begun! :D**


	2. weighed down with words too overdramatic

**1: weighed down with words too overdramatic**

Cinnamon rolls forgotten, though they were his favorite breakfast delicacy, Matt stood and almost tipped over the bar stool he'd been sitting on. "And to a _man?_" he practically screeched the last part.

"_You_ should have been the one to tell him," David muttered to Rebecca, who was standing beside her husband, looking quite amused. "Matt, I know that-"

"-this is a surprise, yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say," Matt interrupted bitterly. He sighed in frustration, running his fingers through his unruly hair. "I thought we were over this," he said with a hint of resignation. "You _promised _that you'd stop setting me up with random strangers if I did well with my studies." He hesitated thoughtfully. "Is that it? Was I kicked out of school or something?"

David shook his head. "You're doing very well, it's just that we're not doing so well right now," he explained, careful with his word choice.

The younger redhead arched an eyebrow. He gestured at his surroundings, at the spacious dining room and pristine decorations. "Not so well?" he echoed skeptically.

Not wanting to go into that further, David shook his head again. "The marriage will last for only one year. After that, you're free to divorce him. His father will have already passed away and he'll be the owner of the company; no one's going to be paying much attention to his and his wife's divorce."

"Do you have any idea how-" Matt growled_("Do you have any idea how heartless you sound?")_, then cut himself off. "Wait a minute." His eyes widened an inch or so as he stared at his father with every bit of incredulity he could muster. "Did you say _wife?_"

"Yes," admitted David.

"Um, excuse me, the last time I checked, I'm a boy," Matt hissed. "You of all people should know, you were there when Mom gave birth to me!"

"I know, I know," David said, impatience creeping into his tone. "Obviously, Mello's marriage is going to be announced, but gay marriage isn't quite...accepted in this area. In order for things to go according to plan, we're going to fool the media into thinking that you're a woman."

"A woman!" Matt snorted indignantly.

"That part will only be for the first week," David said solemnly. "I can tell you that truthfully. After the wedding, you two are free to loathe each other. You'll be moving into Mello's living quarters, of course, though that doesn't mean that you'll have to deal with him everyday." He added in a slightly begging tone, "Please, Mail, all I ask for is a week. You'll be doing your family a lot of good."

An argument rose up in Matt's throat, but the redhead clamped his mouth shut at the mention of his real name. "You said his name. Mello, was it?" he said softly. Flashes of a blond-haired kid sparked in his mind.

It was Rebecca who answered. "Yes," she said. "You were friends when you were ten or so, weren't you?" She attempted a comforting smile. "So, see? He's not a _complete _stranger."

"No, but that makes things even more awkward." Matt groaned and lolled his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Fine," he muttered finally. "Fine, fine, fine. But you can watch your plan crash and friggin' burn because I look nothing like a god damn girl."

Rebecca winced at her son's language. "Language, Matt," she vociferated her thoughts exactly.

Matt didn't reply, choosing to leave his breakfast at the table and storming upstairs to his room.

"That went relatively well," David said once he deemed that he was out of earshot. "I think that his mood will be a little bit more brighter by tomorrow night."

Rebecca nodded in agreement. "We're coming over to the Keehls' residence, correct?" she asked. David nodded. "Oh, yes. Matt being reunited with a childhood friend will be good for him. I can already see he and Mello conspiring together like they used to when they were young."

Halfway up the staircase, Matt rolled his eyes, having heard the last few bits of the conversation. He and Mello had never been friends. Matt wondered if his parents had been watching the right kids. "When I was nine, I called him pretty," Matt recalled to himself sourly. "I meant it, too. And then he kicked me in the balls." He stomped to his room, not caring how childish he was acting.

He made sure to slam the door loudly.

* * *

"The wedding will be in a week," Laura Keehl finished recounting the deal that had been made just the previous night. "You will finally have a wife."

Mello glanced up briefly from his tattered copy of _The Odyssey. _"Okay," he said dully, flipping a page. He absently tapped a booted foot against the sill that he was currently sitting on. "Why is this happening again?"

Laura beamed; Mello was taking this incredibly well, considering the slight homophobia that he had. "To help out a family in need," she said.

"So, out of pity?" Mello rephrased, reaching up to tuck blond strands behind his ear.

"Mello!" Laura said sharply. "Not pity, no, no. The Jeevas family needs the support and we need a bride for our son. It benefits both parties."

"And when am I meeting this soon-to-be bride of mine?" Mello said without much interest withheld in his voice. He turned to another page in his book, only half paying attention to his mother's response.

Laura answered, "Tomorrow night!" She clapped her hands in glee, smiling widely. "You're going to love him, Mello. I remember when you were kids, you were practically inseparable. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you end up wanting to actually marry him." After a moment's thought, she exclaimed, "Oh, and I remember that Christmas, when you two were both eight. You happened to be under a mistletoe, and Matt walked to you and went up on his tippy-toes and kissed your cheek! It was the cutest thing ever."

"That's fantastic," Mello said absently. "I cannot put into words how much excitement I feel for this meeting. Why, I'm so excited, I feel the overwhelming urge to burst into song." He made sure to emphasize his usual sarcasm into those words. He let some seconds pass for the words to hopefully sink into his mother's brain. "Mother," Mello said, "shouldn't you be picking out your attire for tomorrow night?"

Laura snapped to attention. "You're right!" she said. "And your father- Your father still needs to be informed- Oh, he's going to be so happy!" And she left, leaving Mello alone in his room once more.

As he silently contemplated the future, he also wondered what his wife would look like and what her personality was.

And then, something hit him: her mother had called his future wife 'Matt.' Mello didn't mind it; surely the girl just had a boyish name...? _But_, he reminded himself, _Mother had described her as a 'he.'_

Mello sat up, _The Odyssey _forgotten in his lap, feeling a slight sense of dread coming on._  
_

_I, Mello Keehl, the _straightest_ man to ever live...am getting married to...another...man?_

* * *

**Pfft, sure, Mels. Anyway, thanks for the positive reviews, everyone. It's nice to know that there are people reading. :D  
**

**(Dance Dance, by Fallout Boy)  
**


	3. and charming and vicious

**2: and charming, and vicious**

Sometimes, Matt wished that his father owned a fashion company. At least he'd have some experience with dressing up in those tuxedos...

The redhead studied himself in the big mirror. "Kemp hair, check," he murmured to himself, glancing worriedly at the night sky outside. "Clean fingernails? Sort of..." He paused, looking  
outside again. How much time did they have before they'd be late? The Keehls didn't live too far away, but Matt had waited practically ten minutes before the arranged time until he'd  
finally started dressing up.

"Black shoes," he continued, dropping his gaze back down to his feet. "Check."_ Why do I even care about being on time anyway?_ "Correct pair of slacks, check."_ Didn't I want to make a_  
_bad impression and hopefully scare Mello away? _"Button-up suit, check."_ I don't care. No, not at all. _"Tie, check..." He trailed off, again checking the opened window, squinting at it  
judgingly, trying to tell the time._ Where's a clock when you need one? _he thought irritably, searching the room for the alarm clock that usually sat on his bedside table._ Well, I guess I_  
_probably knocked it over too hard this morning..._

"A striped undershirt?" There was a scoff in the doorway, and Matt whirled in surprise, not having heard the person enter at first. "Matt, you _fail_ at fashion."

"W-well," Matt spluttered, holding his arms out. "I wanted stripes!"

The other man(well, technically teen-he was two years younger than Matt at the age of sixteen), rolling his eyes. "If you want stripes, then you go with the bow," he said with a click of  
his tongue. "Stripes are horrendous with ties."

"But what if I wear a striped tie?" Matt offered, already feeling the big 'YOU LOSE' for the argument. _Sheesh, just because I'm gay doesn't mean I have good taste in fashion, you know..._

Blair, the one standing in the doorway in his black-hair-with-blue-streaks glory, frowned. "I'm not saying that because you're gay, you should have a good taste in fashion," he said  
exasperatedly. "It's that you're- Oh, god, take off that shirt!"

Matt snickered, slipping off his blazer. "Sure, hun," he said in a ridiculous imitation of a girl's voice, throwing a wink over his shoulder. Blair didn't seem to notice; he was already digging  
through Matt's dresser.

"What are you even dressing up for, anyway?" the boy grumbled, holding up a shirt, deeming it unfit, and tossing it aside. "You know that as your stylist, I like to be notified of these  
things at least five days prior!" He finally found the correct shirt and threw it at Matt none-too-politely.

Matt, putting on the shirt and beginning to tie the buttons, said, "Hey, Blair, I know you're really good at this stuff, so, will you do my hair for me?"

At once, the blue-streaked boy's head whipped around to look at him with big, hopeful green eyes. "You'll let me?" he asked, his voice taking an innocent edge. It was a sudden change of moods, but Matt was used to it.

" 'Course," he said airily.

Blair emitted a giggle, standing and giving the older an impromptu hug. "You're the best!" he crowed, eyes glittering in happiness.

"Well, I _am _about to meet my future husband," Matt said pointedly. "I guess it can't hurt to...look good."

Green eyes shifted once more and now looked more mature. Blair let out a sound that was a crossover between a shriek and a squeal, pouncing on Matt. "Future husband?" he screeched. "Why am I the _last to know_?"

"Jeez, Blair!" Matt coughed on his chokehold, struggling to sit up from where he'd landed on the floor. "You're only the second to last."

This brought another onslaughter of more shrieks and hits from his beloved stylist. Finally, Blair straightened, sniffing indignantly. "Fine," he said haughtily. "I don't care." Then his eyes watered and he bit his lip. "You butthole," he muttered with a pout, flicking his bangs out of his eyes.

"Boys." And this time it was Matt's mother in the doorway, shaking her head at the sight of Matt on the floor and Blair standing above him with hands on his hips. "We're already five minutes late. Matt, for goodness' sake, button up your shit and let's go."

Blair looked down accusingly at the redhead. "I'm not going with you?" he said sadly.

Matt shook his head. "Sorry," he flashed an apologetic smile, long fingers scrambling to button up his white dress shirt. "If it helps you feel better, I give you permission to start researching Mello. You can use my laptop."

Despair forgotten, Blair was immediately at the laptop's side, fingers twitching to open it. "Good luck, Matty," he chirped.

"Matt!" His mother said sharply from the hallway.

"One more _second!_" Matt called back irately. He hastily undid the tie around his neck and threw it on his bed. "I don't like it," he said simply, and shut his bedroom door, leaving Blair.

The raven-haired boy shook his head, eyeing the tie. "Fashion reject," he mumbled sourly.

* * *

For the umpteenth time, Mello kicked at the floor with his foot, posture slacking. His parents stood on the other side of the dining hall, chattering mindlessly about the Jeevas'; Mello scowled. _How could they just_-

The ring of the doorbell cut through the rather tense atmosphere. One of the maids popped her head into the hall and announced, "They've arrived."

Rage boiled in Mello's veins like it hadn't before. _I can't believe this, _he thought, savagely biting into a chocolate bar one of the maids had handed to him. _Matt Jeevas, huh? Stubborn git when we were young. _He folded his arms in disgust. _Wouldn't be surprised if he was the one who'd suggested this idea in the first place. Selfish little..._

"Mello," one of the maids came up to him, bowing before continuing, "your Mother requests your presence."

"Tell her I'm in the bathroom," Mello said sharply, and turned on his heels and began to walk away.

The maid was left standing there. The corner of her eye twitched. As much respect that she had for Mello...the blond was really infuriating at times.

She made her way back to the living room, where the visiting family had come in. A redhead - she guessed that this was Matt - was sitting in one of the big armchairs, ducking his head, as if trying to divert attention from himself. _Well, that's not happening with your hair,_ the maid thought with a silent chuckle.

"Master Mello is in the bathroom," she said curtly to Mrs. Keehl.

The demure woman closed her eyes for a brief moment. She re-opened them again with a resigned sigh, turning to her guests. "I apologize, Mello won't be able to join us right now," she explained with a smile. "But dinner has been prepared, so please do come in. Mello will certainly be here by then." Her tone sounded force, and she looked at the made fiercely, trying to convey the message that _Mello will be joining us lest you want to be fired._

The maid's shoulders slouched as the adults and Matt were ushered into the dining hall by the other servants. She, on the other hand, had some bribing to do.

She fished around her pockets for the two bars of Godiva chocolate, then headed straight for the bathroom.

* * *

Matt honestly felt like he was about to explode.

He was used to the three-course meals at his house, but _five _courses?

"Oh, man," he groaned, flopping weakly on the couch. He stared blankly at the twin couch on the opposite side of the room, and noticed with an air of amusement that everything looked about symmetrical. "Someone's OCD," he whistled to himself.

"Excuse me?" Someone had appeared to his left. Matt sat up abruptly, not entirely surprised. He'd known that getting away from the hype was going to be difficult - he was, of course, getting married...

"S-sorry," Matt found himself stuttering. He asked himself, _What am I apologizing for...?_

The other man shook his head, smiling(_or is he smirking?_ Matt thought). "Forgive me for my sudden appearance." He walked towards Matt, taking his hand and kissing it slightly. "My name's Mihael."

_Mihael, huh? _Matt bit his lip to keep from asking if what the other's place exactly was. He was dressed too much to be a servant, yet not quite enough to something that the likes of Mello wore. "I'm Mail," Matt said, deciding that the guy probably didn't know that he was the one Mello was getting married to. His father had introduced him to everyone as Matt, so no one knew Mail. And admittedly, another reason in his decision was that he was too busy blushing to really be thinking.

"Mail?" Mihael frowned. "That's a peculiar name for a girl."

Matt blinked. "A girl...?" He harrumphed. "My hair's not that long, okay, so get off my case!" It was a rude outburst, he knew that, but his pride had been damaged and he had to do something to make up for it.

Mihael didn't seem all too pleased either. "A boy?" He let go of Matt's hand. "Oh."

"What, homophobe?" Matt growled. He didn't know anything about this other man, but that look was something he'd been used to receiving from narrow-minded people since the time he'd announced that- That he was-

"What did you say?" The gentlemanly behavior was gone; Mihael grabbed the front of Matt's shirt and yanked him up. "Say it again."

Matt didn't make a sound, instead opting to glare at Mihael.

Mihael looked ready to send a fist flying, but thankfully they were interrupted by the adults, who were crowding back inside the living room, talking loudly. "Mello!" Laura Keehl exclaimed when she saw him.

Matt's eyes went wide as he stared into piercing green irises. This...was...Mello...?

"Matt!" Rebecca said with an air of disapproval.

And Mello's eyes went wide also.

"I'm getting married to _him!" _Mail cried, wriggling away from Mello's grip. He turned tail and tried to run for it, but Mello was quicker, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back against the flush against his chest.

"You will shut up and pretend that everything's all right," Mello whispered into his ear. "Then you will follow my lead and come upstairs _with me _to my room."

Matt managed a nod.

Mello released him, pushing him forward in a way that made Matt stumble. "We have a lot of catching up to do," Mello said to the others with a fake smile. "Are you coming, Mail?"

"Yes," Matt squeaked, pushing aside his pride because Mello's body language was screaming, _I will kill you if you don't do what I say. _

"If you'll excuse us." Mello bowed gracefully before turning around and starting to head towards the staircase, Matt following close behind.

"I knew they'd get along just fine," Mrs. Keehl was gushing. "They're even calling each other by real names!"

They reached the top of the staircase, but Mello didn't stop. He walked down another hall, then stopped at the first door to the right. He didn't even as much as glance as Matt when he twisted the doorknob and opened the room.

Matt tried to ignore the oncoming sense of dread as he stepped inside after him.

* * *

**First of all: Um, I'm not too big on fashion either, so Blair's whole rant was totally made up on a whim.**

**Oh, and speaking of Blair - more of him later. He's an important character here, just an fyi. As for the fact that he seemed a little bit cuckoo in that first scene... Well... I'd be pleasantly surprised if someone guesses his condition. ;)  
**


	4. gonna make you bend and break

**3: gonna make you bend and break**

The moment the door slammed shut, Mello was upon him. The older male stalked across the room and practically pounced on the bed, where Matt had taken his seat. Said redhead let out a little noise of surprise, trying to crab-walk backwards and away from the offender.

"Where are you going, Matty?" Mello purred, slinking right after him. He effectively trapped him against the headboard, bringing his face close to the younger's.

"My mother can sue you," Matt objected weakly, trying to free his wrists which, he noticed, were being pinned above his head. _Oh god, _he moaned inwardly, _is this it? He's gonna freaking rape me? Fuck, I need to get out, need to get out..._

Mello merely gave him a feral grin, bringing one hand down to cup the redhead's cheek. "Did you know, Matty, that I have no intentions of marrying you?"

"No, really!" Matt said sarcastically. He tried not to show his hysteria through the tone of his voice, opting to keep wriggling in hopes of finally getting away. _Is this Mello's method of telling people stuff?  
_

"And did you know," Mello continued, "that I was already seeing someone?"

That made Matt's heart squeeze painfully for one second. _Yeah, I've always had a strange liking to Mel- What am I thinking? I need to get away first! _"Okay, I get it!" he nearly shouted, trying to knee Mello between the legs. It failed when the blond swatted it aside with his hand. "Can't we talk about this without you between my legs?" Matt said. "Please?" Forget his pride, he needed to get out of this compromising situation before Mello _actually _got around to raping him. Though there was such disgust in the blond's eyes that Matt doubted he'd actually do it...

Mello acquiesced, moving off of Matt none-too-happily. He stood back up, observing Matt with lazy eyes.

"Thank you," Matt muttered under his breath, gathering his knees to his chest and locking his arms securely around them. He glowered up at the taller man, trying to convey how much he disliked him at this moment into one look.

Mello rolled his eyes in disbelief. "I brought you up here to make one thing clear," he said.

"Please enlighten me," Matt said venomously, unrelenting of his glare.

Mello almost smiled; if he did, then it was sadistic. "The marriage will go on," he said with a hint of finality, "but no one will know that you're a boy."

Matt bit back a sigh of imaptience; he'd heard this already. Still, he nodded for Mello to keep talking as to not aggravate the blond.

"I'm going to keep seeing Misa," Mello went on, and would have gotten further if Matt hadn't interrupted him suddenly.

"Wait, Misa?" Matt had heard of her; her father was the CEO of the most well-known fashion company. "You're seeing Misa?"

Mello gave him a look that said, 'I thought you knew already.' "Yes," he said slowly, as if talking to a child.

Matt tried to conjure up an image of the two blonds together and failed horribly. "Well, okay then..." he said tentatively. The news was a little unsettling, but he let it slide. "What else?"

"You're going to act like it's not happening at all," Mello told him. "My relationship with Misa - it was pretty public, so when I announced my break up with her, practically everyone knew about it."

Realization dawned on Matt. He looked at the floor with newfound interest. "So what you're saying is," he began quietly, "you're going to be marrying me, but you're still also seeing your girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"And you want me to lie about it and say that you're a perfect, loyal husband?"

"Yes."

"You're a bastard." Matt didn't quite know why he felt like this; the marriage was barely real and Mello was practically a stranger. Yet he felt hurt, looking at Mello's cold face and knowing that the blond was doing this without being ruffled. Didn't he feel _some _kind of remorse?

Mello smirked, putting a hand on his hip and tossing his hair back haughtily. "Who says that I have to be nice for you, Mail?" he asked with an air of sweetness that made Matt want to hurl.

"Bastard," Matt repeated. It wasn't accusatory, he was just stating it like a fact.

Mello scoffed, turned, and left the room.

* * *

Blair was on Matt's laptop, clicking away at searches and pictures of Matt's 'husband.' The first time Blair had seen Mello, the raven-haired boy immediately thought, _Well, at least he's good-looking... _The next link he'd clicked on led to an online article dated about two months ago. One of the pictures on the side showed Mello standing on the steps of a building with his arm curled around a girl's shoulder. Blair at first had mistaken them to be siblings, but the caption underneath the picture proved otherwise, reading: 'Mello Keehl with his girlfriend, Misa Amane.'

Blair had a pretty good idea of who Misa Amane was. Not only was she on practically every fashion magazine he owned, but she'd once been someone he looked up to. He could still feel his disgust when he saw on the news that Misa had been caught helping a criminal obtain a fake passport. The criminal(whose name had been Light, or something like that) had escaped, though Misa hadn't; she was on the front page of every newspaper and gossip magazine for at least a month. That all died down when rumors started spreading about the fashionista supposedly having a boyfriend.

Blair hadn't given much thought on that topic, but now it somewhat made a little more sense: Misa had been seeing Mello. And then, based on recent news, he'd broken up with her in order to marry another woman named Matilda(which Blair presumed, with a laugh, was Matt).

He'd become worried when he read some blogs; apparently there were a few sightings of Mello sneaking out with Misa.

It troubled Blair. He considered Matt as his big brother, and to think that Mello could be sneaking around behind his back. Matt hadn't told him anything about the marriage, but whether or not it was real, Mello had no right to do that.

The bedroom door was practically slammed open and ripped off its hinges; Blair jumped about a foot in the air as Matt stalked in, kicking the door shut behind him. The redhead threw himself on his bed, where he promptly began to scream his lungs out.

"I'm presuming it didn't go over so well," Blair said pointedly when Matt had somewhat calmed down. The older boy was literally gnawing at the edge of his pillow, eye twitching in irritation. "Matt," Blair said exasperatedly, "we're accomplishing nothing by destroying perfectly innocent sleep necessities."

Matt threw the pillow aside, threading his fingers through his hair agitatedly. "Mello," he began in frustration, "is such a _butt_, and I'd think of a better adjective, but right now, my mind is currently hazy and unfocused with thoughts about how to strangle a particular blond male with an inferiority complex...!"

Blair rolled his eyes. "Save the theatrics," he drawled. "What did he do?" After a slight hesitation, he revised, "Never mind, what did _you _do?"

"Nothing!" Matt cried. "I did nothing! I was just sitting there when he suddenly shows up. Apparently he thought I was a girl - by the way, what kind of girl would be wearing a freaking suit? - and started flirting with me. Then our parents came in and we realized, This _is the person I'm marrying?_" Matt retold him the whole thing, occasionally throwing in some profanity and sarcastic remarks. By the time he was done, he was all riled up again, red in the face and absolutely _fuming. _

Blair had never seen his friend ticked off like this.

And the sixteen-year-old found it...endearing.

"You need to calm down," he told him with some wisdom in his words. "He's probably screwing with your head on purpose."

"Yes, I know that," Matt groaned. "But the thing I'm most worried about is that it's working. My head has officially been screwed with." He massaged his forehead, sighing in stress. "I think that he's a sadist and likes hurting people," he concluded in a grumble.

Blair's expression switched; he frowned sympathetically and held his arms out. "Does Matty want a hug?" he cooed. When Matt accepted his offer, sniffling childishly, Blair found it amazing that this man was two years older than him.

"Okay, now that you're done venting," he chirped after a moment's silence, "let's go and surf the internet for pictures!"

"I don't want to see any more pictures of Mello," Matt said sourly. "I think that I've enough mental images of him to last a lifetime..."

Blair snorted. "No, we're not looking for pictures of _him._" A big smile spread broke out on his face. "We're going to look for your wedding dress!"

* * *

**I planned for the wedding to be in this chapter, but I really wanted it to have a chapter of its own, so...wedding's coming up next. :D**

**Also Mello's such a butt, yes? =.= As for the whole Mello-is-dating-Misa-oh-my-god-what-the-frick incident... Will it make you feel any better if I told you that Mello doesn't really like her? :P**

**Oh, and Blair - I think Ellebasi was the only one who got it, but he has DID(dissociative identity disorder/multiple personality disorder). A lot guessed bipolar, but there's a difference between the two that's going to be important for later on in the story - sometimes, people with DID experience memory loss. **

**Uh, hope you enjoyed. :D  
**


	5. what a beautiful wedding!

**4: "what a beautiful wedding!"**

Mello may be a cold, heartless person, but at that very moment, when the redhead came into view, he found himself breathless. And the facts that that sounded so _sappy _and he wasn't suppose to like Matt in any way made him clench his fingers and growl in the back of his throat.

The person next to him(who happened to be some guy named Nate) murmured, "Calm, Mello." It was barely audible with the piano playing loudly in the background, but Mello heard the words. It only angered him more.

Matt was still walking towards him. The dress - Mello considered it okay. Then again, he always had different tastes for everything. The dress's straps were about the width of two fingers put together, frills potruding from the sides. The neckline dipped down in an obtuse V, though not low enough to reveal that Matt wasn't really a girl. Again, more ruffles came down from the neckline, draping loosely about half of the midriff. There was a white ribbon tied around Matt's waist, allowing the dress to outline some curves in a way that made Matt look much more feminine. The rest of the dress came down in two layers: One stopped near where Matt's knees would be, and another layer underneath it went the whole way down to cover Matt's feet.

...Which were now visible, with Matt gripping the skirt and hoisting it up, revealing two rather delicate feet in silver high heels. The expression that he wore look indifferent, yet Mello could sense the discomfort and anxiety in his eyes. Mello's gaze moved from Matt's blue eyes to his hair; he'd been looking forward to see what was done to that unruly mop of red.

And Matt's hair didn't fail to amuse Mello.

Once cut just an inch away from the shoulder, it was now longer. Red bangs were parted to the side, wavy red tresses resting on Matt's chest. Mello would have believed that Matt had managed to grow his hair that much within a few days until a shine of something metal caught his attention. His smirk only widened, realizing that Matt was actually using extensions - either that, or it was a wig.

"Pretty dress," Mello commented when Matt reached him. The glare he received only egged him on. "Did you pick it out yourself?"

"Spiffy suit," Matt replied, "_honey._"

Mello repressed a snort of incredulity and instead took his soon-to-be wife(husband?)'s hand and leading him to the priest.

"We are gathered here today..."

Oh, right. They were getting married today.

Mello didn't hate Matt, per se. He only found the idea of getting married in such circumstances to be irking. He hated doing things out of pity(though his mother kept denying that they were doing this out of so). And even though Matt's attitude was atrocious, Mello...

Well, he wasn't really sure how he felt right now. He blamed the presence of a very girly Matt beside him.

"By the power vested in me..."

_We'd recited vows already?_

"...I now pronounce you..."

_Wow, this is really happening..._

"...man and wife."

The ring seemed to weigh rather heavy on Mello's finger.

"You may now kiss the bride."

And Mello's eyes widened. To be honest, he'd forgotten that he'd have to kiss Matt - who was still a guy, no matter how _effeminate _he was currently looking. Matt also seemed thoroughly surprised, facing Mello with wide, frightened eyes that reminded him of Bambi.

_It didn't really need to be this awkward_, Mello thought. _It really doesn't._ So, for the sake of onlookers(who happened to be every single damn news reporter and journalist) and Matt(who looked about ready to faint), Mello took his hands and leaned down, swiftly planting a kiss on the redhead's lips.

* * *

It really didn't need to be this awkward.

He shouldn't be liking this that much.

Matt felt very conflicted. "They're still looking," he murmured when Mello broke away for a second. Mind hazy, ears buzzing, Matt almost didn't hear the response.

"You just want to kiss me again." And Mello kissed him for the second instance, this time threading his fingers through red locks and those extensions that Blair had insisted upon wearing.

"No, I don't," Matt mumbled when they pulled away again. "Just wanting to look good in front of the- Mello? What are you-?" By the end of that sentence, Matt had been hoisted up bridal style into Mello's arms, head resting on the crook of the blond's right elbow. "What are you doing?"

"Looking good in front of the cameras," Mello replied. The newscasters and such were too busy snapping pictures and writing down stuff to catch what he'd said. And when they finally decided that they wanted to interview the newlyweds, they surged forward like a mass of elephants going after a peanut. Or something like that.

"Mello, put me down," Matt said as he was carried down the aisle and towards the two oak doors that led outside. "I _said-_"

"I'm not going to drop you, if that's what you're worried about," Mello told him gruffly. "When we get outside, I want you to go into that limo - or whatever they sent for us - as fast as possible. Understand?"

Before Matt could reply, they'd already reached outside and the limousine that was indeed waiting for them in front of the curb. Matt fisted the skirt of his wedding dress(_these ruffles are really irritating_) and managed to haul himself into the backseat without ripping the nice fabric or ruining it in any other way. He noted that Mello held the back of his head the whole time, rushing him into getting in.

"_You _try doing this in a dress," Matt huffed petulantly, letting his skirt fall. It took over most of the backseat, covered Mello's lap partly when he finally came inside and closed the door.

"The sleeves shouldn't have had the ruffles," Mello said bluntly.

Matt shot him a look that said, _Are we really going to argue about this? _Because, really, arguing was getting tiring. Matt leaned his head back on the cushioned seat, watching outside the window with disinterest. Anything to avoid staring at Mello...

The limo stopped some time later; Matt had honestly lost track of time.

Mello took him bridal style in his arms again and carried him to the hotel that they'd rented(of course, just for show). There weren't any reporters, so Matt remembered cussing Mello out in Japanese and French and Spanish, because he really didn't need this.

Later on, as he stood, _finally _out of that dress and in the pristine bathroom of the hotel, Matt found out that the hair extensions had been ready to fall out since Mello first ran his fingers through his hair.

Matt suddenly understood.

He smiled and thought, _Well, maybe he's not that bad._

_

* * *

_**I was listening to I Write Sins Not Tragedies and somewhere in the beginning, the lyrics were, **_**"What a beautiful wedding! What a beautiful wedding!" says a bridesmaid to (a waiter). And he answers, "What a shame. What a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore."**_

**As much as I cracked up on that last part, I didn't think it'd really fit the situation, so I just used that 'beautiful wedding' part. XD**

**Edit: I was in such a rush this morning that I forgot to stick on the URL for Matt's wedding dress:**

**ruffledblog(dot)com/diy-handmade-ruffled-wedding-dress/**

**And, YES I did find that myself. For the sake of this story, I went wedding-dress-hunting for about two hours. It was, dare I say it?...fun. :O  
**


	6. thnks fr th mmrs

**5: thnks fr th mmrs  
**

It really was strange to see Mello like this, Matt mused. Donning nothing more than a simple white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and leaning against the headboard of their - yes, _their _- bed with some novel, it was the most normal version of the blond that Matt had seen. So far, that was.

_Thump, thump, thump, _went Matt's head as he knocked it against the desk on the other side of the room in a rhythmic pattern. _Thump, thump, thump. _And he was relentless, as if expecting something remotely entertaining to be had from this activity. The younger of the pair paused when he noticed that Mello was muttering something. "What did you say?" he asked, raising his head.

"Counting how many brain cells you're currently losing," Mello replied.

_Thump. _Matt slumped his head down again at the absurdity of that reply.

"There goes another three," Mello said cheerfully. "That makes it three-hundred and sixty six brain cells lost."

_Thump, thump, thump. _Matt chose to ignore him, resuming his brain cell banishing. He was so _bored, _he could-

"Can you stop that?" Mello said, eyes flickering up briefly to shoot the redhead an annoyed look. He'd absolutely forgotten to pack any chocolate with their clothes and other necessities in that large bag, and he felt very irritable. A certain goggled nuisance wasn't helping at all.

"I _can,_" Matt said slowly, "but I won't."

"Hey Matt," Mello said with an albeit creepy smile. "Come over here so I can-" He wasn't sure how he had intended to finish that sentence, but before he could see what his mouth decided to say this time, there was a loud knock on the door and a call of, "Delivery!"

Matt's head shot up. He muttered some obscenities under his breath, scrambling to his feet and almost knocking the chair over. "Where do I hide?" he hissed.

"Who the fuck does that?" Mello complained. "Shouldn't they leave it at the front desk and call us down to get it?" He shook his head disdainfully.

With a cry of, "Just answer it, idiot!" Matt dove into the bathroom and slammed the door shut so hard that Mello swore the wall shook.

So Mello did. Begrudingly, of course. Whoever was on the other side of the door was in the middle of knocking the second time when Mello opened it and said smoothly, "May I help you?"

"Mello?" a bent-over man inquired. Under his arm he held several boxes in varying shades of brown and red.

Mello couldn't help but be distracted by the heavy bags under the man's eyes for a second. "Yes," he said when he finally found his voice. "What are those?" He pointed at the boxes, a suspicion forming in his mind that they were chocolates.

"Chocolates," the man said, holding them out. "Laura Keehl wishes you and...Matilda a good honeymoon."

_Matilda? _Mello bit back a snicker. "Oh. Thanks." He received them, reading the card that had been taped on top of one of the boxes. 'Try to get along,' it said. 'And try to at least have fun while you're there! That hotel was expensive, and these chocolates probably would have been too, if I hadn't managed to pick them up from that bakery. Love, mommy.' Mello sighed; he really wished she'd stop signing everything she sent him with a 'Love, mommy.' Mello glanced up(or rather, down) at the man still standing in the doorway. He hadn't read the card, right?

"Enjoy your honeymoon." The man quirked a smile, looking back at Mello through dark bangs. With that, he turned and shuffled back down the hallway towards the elevators.

"Weird." Mello shrugged to himself and closed the door.

"Are they gone?" Matt peeped, emerging from the bathroom slowly. He gave the door a scrutinizing look as Mello breezed past him to the bed. "Who was it?"

"Delivery," Mello said, tossing the card aside and beginning to open the box. _Finally, some chocolates..._

Matt walked back to the desk, slumping down. "Are those chocolates?" he asked with mild interest. Would eating chocolate bring him entertainment? He'd heard from rumors that Mello was addicted to them, but Matt wasn't sure if he'd find chewing on the brown gooey delicacy captivating...

"Fucking shit!" Mello bellowed. "What kind of chocolates are these?" Despite himself, he'd already finished a fourth of the amount of truffles in one of the boxes.

Matt inched over. "Can I...?" he asked cautiously.

"You can," Mello said, purposely imitating the redhead's earlier answer, "but you may not."

And Matt ordered, "Stop bickering with me. Unless you like listening to my persistent slamming of the head against that desk, you will give me chocolate." He paused. "Or I will cut you," he added, quoting one of the TV shows he'd previously seen.

Mello rolled his eyes, shoving the open box at him nonetheless. "You get the rest of those."

Matt figured that that would be the best he'd get. He sat on the bed across Mello, pulled the box closer to him, and snatched a truffle from its place. He popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "It tastes funny," he concluded after swallowing.

Mello was already digging into the second box of chocolates.

Matt shrugged and kept eating.

Having lost track of time, he didn't know how long had passed since Mello first started wolfing down those truffles. All Matt knew was that in a flash, the blond was suddenly on top of him, grinning drunkenly. _Maybe literally, _Matt thought, blinking.

"Hey _Matilda,_" Mello purred, chuckling and ruffling red tresses. After earning an indignant squeak from Matt, Mello went on, "You're cute."

Cheeks flushed at the comment, Matt slurred, "Why thank you." Maybe he was a _teensy _bit drunk as well. _Chocolates must have been spiked, _he managed to think coherently. With another ruffle of his hair from Mello, his mind blanked out. Mello's hand felt...nice. Matt giggled out loud.

Mello gave him a disturbed look. "Matilda, you're so girly." He made a face.

"B-but I am a girl," Matt hiccuped. "I'm your wife, remember?" He giggled again, memories of the wedding re-surfacing.

"Oh right!" Mello spaced out for a minute before saying, "This makes it legal, then, right?" That snooty smile was forming on his face.

Matt grinned back. "Depends on what it is."

"Heh, why don't you find out...?" And then Mello's hands were creeping up his shirt and then there was nothing, not even the slightest thought of what the aftermath would be like. Just bliss.

x

"W-what happened?" His head hurt like hell. The sunlight streaming through open shades wasn't helping, either. After groping around blindly for several seconds, he found his goggles lying haphazardly beside the pillow. He slipped them back on; they helped somewhat with his vision.

Mello's figure became visible, standing by the window. He was back in his shirt and sweatpants and his hair was tousled from having just woken up, yet his expression was serious. Almost pained.

"What happened last night?" Matt groaned, massaging his temples in an attempt to shoo his oncoming migraine away.

Mello put a hand to his forehead, grimacing slightly. "A mistake," he finally said, not looking at Matt.

Flashes of spiked chocolates and discarded shirts flew threw Matt's brain. "Mello?" His voice had a rising tone of hysteria in it; he suddenly realized that he was wearing nothing but boxers. "Tell me what-"

"We had sex," Mello interrupted, bluntly and blankly. He didn't look at Matt as he walked to the bedroom.

"Mello," Matt said warningly, crawling towards the edge to the bed, reaching out to tug the blond back.

"Forget about it, Matt," Mello said, and his voice was commanding, ordering. He spun around to give Matt a sharp look, disdain evident in those irises. "I'm getting picked up in half an hour. Get yourself cleaned up." With that, he'd closed the bathroom door shut with a small click.

Matt slumped back on the bed defeatedly.

How do you forget your first time?

* * *

**Yes, we now have conflict! /bricked**


	7. in my field of paper flowers

**6: in my field of paper flowers  
**

Mello tipped his head back, sighing, his gaze wandering aimlessly at the pretty pictures on the ceiling of the waiting room. He lounged lavishly, an arm lying across his lap while his other rested on the armchair of the maroon couch. His legs were crossed, a booted foot dangling; his posture was one of boredom as Misa babbled on about her date with Light. "Misa," Mello spoke up, "if you don't quiet your tone, someone will overhear."

"And then, and then, he _hugged _me before I left!" Misa continued, quieting her tone nonetheless. Her eyes gleamed happily and she clapped in delight. "We're going to the amusement park tomorrow. He rented the whole place for us so those bothersome photographers wouldn't butt in." She sighed. "My Light is so sweet."

"Hm," Mello said apathetically.

"How's Matilda?" Misa asked suddenly. "She sounds nice. I should meet her."

A lot of people had been fooled by the marriage as planned; Misa was one of them. "She's great," Mello said dismissively, catching himself when he almost said 'he.' "When's our scheduled 'break up' again?"

"In a week," Misa replied. "What do you mean by, 'great?' "

"What's the plan?" Mello queried.

"You have an interview and you're going to say that you love Matilda more than me, so we're breaking up," Misa answered. "Did something happen between you two?"

Mello frowned. "Okay." He paused. "What's up with all the questions? Matt and I are fine."

"Matt?" Misa echoed, sounding almost happy.

_Ah, shit. _"Yeah." Mello nodded. "That's my nickname for her."

"Are you sure it's not short for anything else?" Misa said, grinning now like a Cheshire cat. "Like...Matthew?" She copied Mello's sitting position, shooting him an innocently curious look.

"Matthew's a boy name," Mello said. "Last time I checked, I was married to a girl."

Misa stood up. "Well, if you say so," she chirped. "I have to go now. My outfit for tomorrow isn't going to pick out itself!" She walked around the coffee table to the other couch, leaned down, and kissed Mello's cheek. "See you, Mels."

"Bye, Misa." Mello gave a short wave.

When the blonde left, closing the front door with a quiet click, Mello slumped, rubbing his forehead. Were they being too obvious? If Misa, of all people, had a hint of what was really going on, then it might not be too long before the others...

It had been five days since the honeymoon incident. Mello winced at the memory as he stood up and stretched. _Matt hasn't contacted me at all since then. Is he really that hung over that night? _Mello scoffed. _He really is such a girl._

Nonetheless, he grabbed his phone and dialed the number of the local florist.

* * *

"He's an asshole," Blair was ranting. "What was his name again? Right, Mello. That's such a girly name! He's probably a closeted gay!"

"Blair," Matt said slowly from his place on the bed, "you're gay too."

Blair stopped in the middle of cursing Mello for the umpteenth time, his cheeks coloring red. "Oh, right." He giggled, falling atop Matt's feet on the bed. "Striped socks, Matt? Really?" He poked the redhead's feet with a look of distaste.

"Oh my god," Matt chuckled. "They're just socks." And the chuckle escalated into a laugh, which eventually became loud guffaws. Blair joined in, and the two boys laughed together on the bed, and to Matt, it felt nice to finally release some of his pent up energy. "That was nice," he breathed once he'd calmed down.

Blair was still trying to stop laughing. "You bet." He relaxed against Matt's long legs. "So. Mello."

Groaning, Matt covered his eyes. "Can we stop talking about him?" he asked. "Just his name makes my head hurt."

"I bet something else still hurts," Blair said bluntly, and Matt smacked him, and he smacked him back. "What? I'm only being concerned with your well-being."

"Nah, that was five days ago," Matt sighed. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"You should have-" Blair began, but there was a knock on the door before one of the maids opened it.

"Matt?" the brunette stepped in a little apprehensively. "There's someone by the name of Mello looking for you. He says that he wants to talk to you about something important, and, um," she cleared her throat, "he's carrying a bouquet of flowers."

"Oh," Matt squeaked.

The maid nodded. "Would you like me to, um, send him in?"

"Tell him to-"

"No, I'll go talk to him for you!" Blair interrupted with a big and obviously fake grin. His eyes flashed, emotions flickering through, and while Matt was used to it, he couldn't help but shiver a little. "Matty, you stay here!"

"Blair, don't you dare-" Matt began, reaching out for the raven-haired boy. He missed and Blair marched to the doorway.

There he stopped, and smiled sweetly. "I'll tell Mello you said hi," he said, as if this would solve everything. Without another word, he was already heading down the stairs.

Matt flopped back down on the bed. "Fantastic," he muttered, shielding his eyes with an arm.

"Excuse me," the maid cut in shyly, "but is that the man that you're married to?"

Matt lifted his arm to look at her. "Yep."

There was a bang that emanated from downstairs. Matt sighed for what seemed like the millionth time this week. "I'll go make sure no one's hurt," he said resignedly, before getting up, grabbing his hoodie(he was only wearing a pajama top, and he didn't feel very comfortable only wearing that around the man who took his virginity), slipping it on, and walking past the maid towards the staircase.

* * *

_Lavenders._

Mello stood in the living room where the maid had told him to wait and ran a hand impatiently through his hair.

_Lavenders. Matt smells like lavenders, _he said to himself without much thought, picking at the purple flowers in his hand. The florist had done a pretty job at arranging them and picked a nice purple bow to hold them together.

There was the sound of footsteps; Mello straightened a little automatically. He'd expected it to be Matt, but the person who'd come out was not the redhead: it was someone else, younger, with black hair and...blue streaks? "Your hair is atrocious," Mello said without thinking, giving the teen a stare that indicated he didn't know whether to be disturbed or to be awed.

"You!" the boy jabbed a finger towards Mello.

"Me," Mello replied boredly. "You're not Matt. Where is he?"

"You're the one who-" Black-Hair-With-Blue-Streaks had began stomping over to Mello, and in the process knocked over one of the decorative porcelain vases perching on a side table. It fell to the ground and shattered.

"Smooth," Mello quipped. "Now, where's-"

"Blair!" And the subject in question appeared in his pajama-clad glory. The moment those blue eyes met his, Matt seemed to falter.

"Looking good, Matt," Mello spoke up, smirking.

Matt blinked, knees buckling a little. Then he shook his head, glared. "Come on, Blair," he said to Black-Hair-With-Blue-Streaks. He grabbed his hand, and that's when Mello supposed he lost it.

With a sudden wave of possessiveness, Mello grabbed Matt's other hand and pulled. Matt came stumbling towards the blond. "These are yours," Mello said, thrusting the flowers into Matt's arms. The redhead let go of Blair's hand to hold the bouquet. "And. I'm not good at these things, but," Mello was aware that by now, his face must have been a shade of tomato red. "I'm sorry. For five days ago."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You were counting?"

"Just take the damn flowers," Mello said huskily, leaning in close, "and I'll meet you at the park tomorrow at two." He released his hand. "Good for publicity and that shit."

"Okay," was Matt's reply; he seemed incapable of making sentences at that time. He looked down at the flowers, biting his lip.

"Matty!" Blair exclaimed, seemingly flabbergasted.

Mello's eyes narrowed sharply. "Matty?" he inquired.

Blair looked up at him(_hm, he's tough for a short guy, _Mello thought) with a fierce glare. "Yeah, Matty."

"I don't think this is the right time to be arguing over my pet name," Matt spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He was still blushing.

"I'm his husband," Mello drawled. "I should be the only one allowed to call him that."

"Well, I'm his surrogate mother," Blair huffed. "So I'm allowed to call him that."

"You guys, _please_ knock it off," Matt begged.

"All right. We'll decide your proper pet name tomorrow, okay?" Mello said brightly. "Don't forget about it." He ruffled Matt's hair, which made the redhead pout and mutter, "I'm only a year younger than you, you know..."

"See you, then." Mello gave a chipper smile, stuck his middle finger up at Blair, and left.

After a few moments of silence, Matt sighed. "I can't believe you discussed my _pet name _with that man."

Blair nodded gravely. "I can't believe I told him that I was your surrogate mother."

Another pause.

"Blair, you kind of are."

"Bitch, stop complaining."

Matt chuckled. "Well, all that's left now is..." He looked happily down at the flowers again, bit back a smile, and went to look for a vase.

* * *

**Before I forget again, this story takes place in modern times. I'd considered making it Romeo-and-Juliet-esque, but they wouldn't have known what a surrogate mother was, probably. Now that I think about it, I think one of the main reasons I started this story was because I wanted to use that line in some context... ._.  
**


	8. i'm half asleep, and i am wide awake

**7: i'm half asleep, and i am wide awake**

It was one thirty in the afternoon, the sky looked like it was about to start pouring any second, and Matt was late and seriously regretting putting Blair in charge of his outfit.

"There's_ nothing _good in here!" the raven-haired boy wailed as another shirt sailed past Matt's head. "I knew I should have bought that dress a week ago…" He continued to mutter to himself repeatedly in German(a language he'd only bothered to learn because, and Matt quoted, "They had fun swear words.").

"Dress?" Matt echoed, sounding amused. "What would you need a dress for, Blair? And can't I just wear some t-shirt? I mean, it's just the park…" He trailed off into silence, sparing another glance at the window. _And a jacket, just in case, _he added silently.

"Of course," Blair said, as if it was supposed to be obvious. He poked his head out from the spacious closet that had been dissolved into a giant mass of clothes with the boy in the middle. "Mello married Matilda. Not Matt." Then he turned back to the pile. "Where's that girly-looking striped shirt you got for your birthday?"

_Right, _Matt thought, chewing on his bottom lip, feeling somewhat hurt. _Matilda. Not Matt. _"It's right here." Matt maneuvered around Blair and bent down to pluck the striped sleeve out from the pile, drawing the rest of the shirt out.

Blair nodded approvingly. "Perfect." After a moment's thought, he said, "Do you have a skirt?"

"Blair, I am a _man_, thank you very much-"

"You're hopeless. I'm going to check your mother's closet."

So Matt took his seat again by the window, noting that he'd been doing this a lot more often since Mello's and his holy matrimony(he shuddered). Mello certainly had his effects on people…

"I found it." Blair came striding back in the room, holding a black skirt up in the air proudly, waving it around. "Oh, and I found these too!" He also held up a pair of white stockings.

Matt cocked his head to the side. "Black and white… I don't want to look like a gothic Lolita, Blair."

"Of course you know what that means," the younger of the two quipped.

"…Just give me those," Matt said, sticking his tongue out as he grabbed the shirt and the skirt and the stockings, heading for the bathroom.

Blair, looking quite proud of himself, sat down in front of Matt's open laptop. "Hm? What's this?" he said, mostly to himself. He squinted at the screen. "Oh. News." He didn't really care for current events, unless… Well, unless nothing, really. But one of the headers caught his interest: "Monkey dies in lab; scientists accused of animal abuse." His eyes narrowed and a sharp glint passed through them. _Honestly_, what was with these people? Those poor animals! Blair practically shoved his index finger down on the mouse in order to read more of the article. In all his anger, his hand slipped a little to the left, causing him to accidentally click on the article next to the one he'd originally intended to open.

'Son of Successful Keehl Company Marries…A Man?' appeared on the next page. Blair faltered, frowning. _This isn't about monkeys…Holy crap, why does this person sound so against gay marriage? _His thoughts became darker and he felt the familiar twitches in the back of his neck, followed by that overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into something. Eyes hooded, he continued to read the article quietly, closing the window as soon as he was finished. By then, he had his knuckles in his mouth, teeth digging into the skin painfully, but he took no notice.

"Blair! These stockings are really tight, can't I just wear socks…?" Matt came wobbling into the room, looking extremely uncomfortable in the girl clothes even though, in Blair's opinion, he made a good cross dresser. The redhead stopped when he saw his friend. "Hey. Are you okay?" He walked over, placing his hands gingerly on the boy's shoulders and rubbing them slowly. "Earth to Blair…"

The raven-haired boy blinked once, eyes drooping a little in drowsiness. "Matty? Sorry, must have drifted off." He rubbed the corner of his eye, swiveling the chair around to assess the redhead. "Oh, it looks awesome," he said cheerfully.

Matt's face turned red, both from anger and humiliation. "Forget it! I'm not wearing them!" he wailed, high-tailing it to the bathroom to get the death traps off.

Blair couldn't help but laugh loudly at Matt's antics before relaxing back into the chair. His laughter died down to giggles as he caught a glance of the open laptop that sat on the desk in front of him.

Why did it feel like…?

But then Matt came back holding the stockings with two fingers as if they contained a disease, and Blair became too concerned trying to decide what shoes to pair would go with the outfit to really care.

* * *

Standing in the rain(_and nothing's ever going to change until_- gah, Hannah Montana!) with his only protection being an umbrella, Matt felt stupid. It didn't help either that his skirt kept riding up - of course Blair had picked the shortest one he found. Matt shuddered when he realized that his mother once wore this…

"What's a pretty lady like you doing out here in the rain, hm?" At the first word, Matt thought, _Oh great, another old man who has a fetish in younger girls. _

He turned slightly, forcing a smile. He faltered when he saw who was talking to him; it was a man who looked to be about his age, with heavy bags under his eyes and back hunched. He was holding his own umbrella and the fact that he came up to the height of Matt's shoulders bent like that kept their umbrellas from bumping into each other's. "I'm waiting, sir," Matt answered politely, not quite sure of what else to say.

"Really? For whom, may I ask?" The tone was curious and maybe even amused. The man straightened up a little before reaching up to trail a damp finger down the length of Matt's hair, which came past his shoulders thanks to the extensions.

Matt flinched, stumbling back a step. Since he figured out how easy it was for the extensions to just slide off(his real hair was, as Blair put it, too soft to attach anything to), he feared that they'd start coming off now. But they held, and he was thankful.

"Ah, for Mello Keehl, correct?" Charcoal black eyes twinkled.

"Of course," Matt replied. "I am his wife, if you recall."

"So you are Matilda." The man nodded once. "Pleasure to meet you."

Matt shifted awkwardly, turning his head to the side and trying to cough daintily. He looked for something to say, but was thankfully saved from having to when he heard someone call, "Matilda!"

A little startled, Matt's gaze fell on the black car that was parked near the entrance of the park. The window was rolled down and there was Mello staring out, a hand raised.

"Sorry, I have to go now," Matt excused himself hurriedly, bowing on a whim and then walking away, trying his best not to run. He could feel the man's eyes practically burning holes into his back and he'd be damned if he said he wasn't creeped out.

The door was opened for him and Mello made room as the cross dresser got in. "Sorry," Matt said once he realized that his soaked boots were staining the probably expensive carpeting.

Mello glanced down at the floor and rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Staring down at his shoes silently, Matt felt the car start rolling forward. "Where are we going?" he queried.

"Obviously not the park," Mello replied sarcastically, eyes narrowed sharply at the weather outside. He scowled in distaste at the raindrops that landed on the window.

"Relax," Matt said, lightly joking as he looked over to Mello. "You're going to burn the window with that look and all the rain's gonna get us."

Mello turned to glare at him and Matt huffed. "I'm just trying to lighten up the mood," he said defensively, feeling like he'd already lost the argument.

Mello only turned back to face the windshield again.

Matt was left wondering why the hell it was so hard to communicate with him.

Fifteen minutes later, the pair was sitting in a cafe, each with their own mug of steaming coffee, Matt staring thoughtfully at the man in front of him while Mello tried to do anything but. Thankfully, the café was deserted save for they and a couple of other people, none of which made a big deal of someone like Mello being in the same café as them.

"Their coffee tastes like shit," the blond remarked impulsively, uncaring whether or not the waiter a few feet away heard them.

Matt shrugged. "You're just used to the ones they feed you in that rich estate of yours," he said nonchalantly, sipping his drink. He found it at least decent and decided that Mello was being unnecessarily snide.

"Which are better by a long shot," Mello put in arrogantly, pushing his mug to the center of the table before slinging his arm across the back of his chair. "I've been meaning to ask you for some time now, but what the _hell _are you wearing?"

Matt fingered the edge of his skirt with a hand. "I let Blair pick it out," he mumbled.

Mello snorted none-too-politely and gave Matt an amused look. "Your surrogate mother?" he asked, grinning wolfishly and showing two rows of white gleaming teeth.

"Shut up about that," Matt said hotly, cheeks warm in mortification. "He tends to spontaneously say things bluntly and insultingly; he can't help it."

"No, he really can't," Mello mused, agreeing.

Matt found Mello's smile to be contagious; soon the redhead was smiling as well, despite himself. "He's a good person," he said softly. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Matt finishing the rest of his coffee while Mello kept his eyes fixed on the window and the ceding rainfall.

"At first, he wanted me to wear a dress," Matt spoke up. Noticeably, the smile hadn't vanished from his own face, and he wondered if it was because Mello was starting to turn out to be someone not half-bad.

Mello chuckled. "Oh, that's priceless," he said, leaning back to smirk at Matt. "I'd have rather liked to see you in it, though."

"What? This skirt isn't short enough for you?" Matt said with a mock pout.

"No."

The wolfish grin was back, and Mello's eyes sparkled with mirth and…truth? Matt's fingers tightened on the edge of his skirt; why was this man so confusing! Mello had even admitted to being a homophobe, or at least showed several signs that he was. And just when Matt was getting used to the looks of distaste, Mello shows up with freaking _lavenders_ and now _this_! Suggesting that he'd like to see another man in a dress!

"Matilda?" Mello spoke, tilting his head to the side in what seemed like concern.

At first, Matt opened his mouth to ask, "Who's Matilda?" when he remembered, _Oh right, I'm Mello's wife. _The thought, which again was a contradiction to what Mello was supposed to be, only added to his confusion. "My mom wore the dress once," he blurted.

Now it was Mello's turn to look confused. "What?" he said.

"I wouldn't wear it, 'cause that's just- Never mind," Matt said quickly, ducking in his seat and trying to hide his blush by looking down. _I swear, it's as if _Mello _has goddamn MPD too, _he thought acidly.

Mello shrugged indifferently. "Well, the rain's mostly stopped." And he stood. "We're leaving."

Matt nodded, subconsciously touching the back of his hair, fingers skimming over where the extensions were clipped on. "Okay," he said mindlessly, leaving his empty coffee mug on the table and following the blond out.

The black car was outside, parked by the curb, the driver still in the front, looking extremely bored(Matt wondered if he'd been here for the last half hour just sitting there).

And twenty or so minutes later, the car skidded to a stop in front of the gates to Matt's house. Matt and Mello(to his surprise) got out, and like every cheesy chick flick that Matt remembered being coerced into seeing with Blair, the blond walked him there. Matt had begun to tell Mello that he hadn't needed to come with him and he was fine when he found a pair of warm lips against his and his mind just kind of melted and he was standing there like an idiot while Mello kissed him.

Mello drew away, but not too far. Their noses brushed ever so slightly and steely eyes were burning into Matt's.

"I-I don't understand you," Matt stammered out, eyes wide and cheeks flushed and paralyzed and unable to move away because- because-

"Quite frankly, I don't quite understand myself either," Mello breathed in reply.

Matt stared wide-eyed at him, not moving, and he was beginning to think that the taller man was going to kiss him again when Mello turned and got into the car. The vehicle drove out of sight.

"Well, shit." Understatement of the year.

Matt half-stumbled, half-sleepwalked past the gates and into his house, ignoring Blair's immediate demands to know what happened, and thought, _I really did not sign up for this._

_

* * *

_**I feel like such ****a _butt. _I got caught up in the project I have to do for Special Interest, which was to write fifty prompts a day for fifty days. I missed some days due to _other _projects I was doing(I'm not going to get into that :P) so I was doing that, since it's due this Tuesday... Needless to say, I was braindead and unable to finish the last part of this chapter. **

**Thankfully, I got my muse back while I was listening to Marianas Trench. Therefore this chapter's title is from a song of theirs_, _one of my favorite songs ever. Cookies if you recognize it. =D**

**Lastly, I'm not going to lie: the next chapter's going to, again, take a while. I want to focus on school more this marking period as well as my family, because I haven't really spent much time with them lately. I'll definitely be working on the next chapter and hopefully have it up by not too long, as well as Looseleaf, though the chapters might come in intervals of 1-2 days each. But hey! At least we got _some _progress between Matt and Mello in this chapter, right?  
**


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